Foolish Games(101)

“That won’t be so easy.” Roscoe looked up from his phone, his eyes shining with what looked like admiration. “She’s named you as the president of the company.”

What? “Can she do that?” Clearly Will had killed a few too many brain cells last night because nothing Roscoe said was making sense.

“Sure she can. It’s her company. She can do whatever she wants.” Roscoe paused, a bemused look on his face. “Only, now it’s your company, so I guess you can give it back to her.”

Why would Julianne do such a thing? Brody’s words filtered back through the haze of the previous evening.

She didn’t need money that badly. She could have a perfectly logical explanation. Did you ask her why?

“Give me that.” He ripped the phone from his agent’s hands and began scrolling through the screen. The mayor of Chances Inlet was singing Will’s praises for being a visionary, persuading Julianne to locate her company in their town. She’d named both his mother and Patricia McAlister as members of the board of directors. And Mrs. Elderhaus! What did his first-grade teacher know about running a company?

“She’s crazy,” Will muttered. “Bat-shit crazy.”

“Skip down to the part about the profits. You’re gonna love that.” Roscoe was definitely amused now.

According to the press release, the profits earned from the company would be used to establish a sports and activities club for youth in Chances Inlet where kids could hang out after school. The Second Chances Center, as Julianne had dubbed it, would also provide academic assistance and job training to the area’s most needy kids. It was visionary, all right. A freaking brilliant way to get back in Will’s good graces. The problem was, he wasn’t buying it. If this was her way of apologizing, it was too little, too late.

“I seriously underestimated your wife’s manipulative skills, Will. I’ve gotta hand it to her, this move trumps our attempt to get public opinion on your side. Not only that, but she’s just proved that she doesn’t need your money. It’s all over the Internet that stores are clamoring for her designs.”

Will wanted to howl with frustration, but the door to the large hearing room opened and his attention immediately focused on Senator Marchione. The buzz from the assembled media reached a crescendo before Julianne’s brother closed the door behind him.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, gentlemen.”

Will didn’t think he looked sorry at all.

“We’ve had a change in plans for today . . .”

Roscoe shot to his feet, his game face firmly back in place. “Wait just a minute! You can’t change things up without consulting with us. My client is not at your beck and call.”

The senator perched one of his hips on a corner of the desk under the window. “I beg to differ. As a subpoenaed witness, he is at the mercy of the committee’s schedule.” He held a hand out, thwarting Roscoe from interjecting. “But that’s neither here nor there. The fact is the hearing has been canceled. We have no need for your testimony.”

A trace of unease traveled down Will’s spine.

“So all this was for what, then?” Roscoe was working himself into indignant fury.

“To get at the truth, Mr. Mathis. And we’ve done that.”

Will nearly snapped off the wooden arms of the chair in which he sat. He was close behind Roscoe in the anger department. And confused. Where did this all leave him?

The senator made a show of adjusting the sleeves of his suit jacket, prolonging the suspense. “It seems Coach Zevalos has decided to clear his conscience in his last days. He made a full confession to the NFL yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Roscoe nearly shouted as he grabbed for his briefcase. “How come we heard nothing about it?”

Will stood to follow his agent out the door.

“Because it doesn’t impact you or your client.”

That stopped both men in their tracks. Will focused a measuring glare at the senator.

“That’s right.” The senator locked eyes with him. “Coach Zevalos named quite a list of names, but yours wasn’t on it. It seems we were in error in subpoenaing you.”

Roscoe didn’t waste a breath. “I want that in writing,” he demanded. “Today.”

The tension crackled in the room as the three men stared at one another for a moment. Finally, the senator gave the briefest of nods. Will squeezed out a breath through lungs he hadn’t realized he was constricting.

“In that case, we’re out of here.” Roscoe headed for the door, Will at his heels.

“Just one minute,” the senator called after them. “Will, can I have a word with you?”